Redbad's Hall

I'll give my own two cents too. It's fine if you come to folkish Heathenry through politics. For many of us this is the case. But at some point, you have to grow beyond that mindset. You have to realize that this is a genuine and very powerful spiritual awakening you are on the threshold of, something not bound by the chains of politics. Whether you think political activism is useful or not is a different debate. I'm asking you, are you here because it justifies your political views, or are you here because you are a Heathen? It's a difficult question and I have asked it of myself more than once. The people in these circles that only view this through politics are standing in their own way. They are usually the first to cramp up at the sight of anything that doesn't fit into their curated view of what Heathenry is. They haven't experienced Heathenry, they haven't lived it. And it's not hard to experience it. There's a world of difference between someone who has been to real rituals and has met like minded people, and someone who just virtue signals on the internet about doing those things. I'm losing track of my original point so I'll finish with this: infiltrators are real. Always be vigilant of possible journalists and those who are only interested in their edgy politics. And if you are stuck in the political mindset, you're not lost. You just need to start living Heathenry instead of only thinking about it.

Some great points by Dave here: https://t.me/TheBoglord/3969 https://t.me/TheBoglord/3971

I will also say this publicly. There is a concerted effort by "activist" groups to infiltrate and join our orgs en masse. I've communicated with several elders in the community that have organizations. Across the board "activists" from all groups, some of them questionable and some inconspicuous have decided to begin pouring in. The timing makes this an unusual coincidence. At a time when the regime wants to desperately tie us to "far right terror" and "white supremacy", groups who have been branded as such are sending their members to join. I'm not suggesting any type of conspiracy. I'm not saying all activists are feds. Much of it could be organic. But we must protect our folk and our organizations from possible nefarious actors and schemes.

Hellrūna Tell me, Hellrūna, whence do we come? How did our World come to be? Tell me, Corpse-counselled, secrets you know, Of the nine realms and the tree. Tell me, Witch, tales of long ago, Ettins and fire and ice. Come now, Dead-listener, wisdom you know, I've come to seek your advice. Tell me, Hellrūna, what of my wyrd? Ways that are laid before me, Tell me, Corpse-counselled, roots that you know, What are the names of the Three? Tell me, witch, of the moon and the stars, Why does the day turn to night? Come now, Dead-listener, runes that you know, When will the sun lose her light? Tell me, Hellrūna, what of the mead? How does one drink from the well? Tell me, Corpse-counselled, future you know, Of Hermod's ride down to Hell. Tell me, Witch, of the end of the worlds, When will the great winter come? Come now, Dead-listener, fate that you know, When will our doom-thread come undone? 🜨

Many thank to the English Order. Make sure to follow them if you don't already, they are doing great work and are honourable folk. https://t.me/englishorder/533

Don't take what the past has left you for granted.

Set the bar to the level common mortals call impossible. If you're not perpetually haunted by the prospect of mediocrity that plagues the herd, you will never push yourself hard enough, you'll remain the same. Live the kind of life where you visualize your ancestors in your mind's eye and can verily say unto them, "watch me".

Recently I went to Germany for a few days and stayed there with a farmer in the forested hills of Sauerland. He turned out to be a Heathen as well and we had some very interesting conversation. He changed my mind on something and I'd like to share it here. I always thought that living rurally makes time slow down. You become aware of the natural cycles and live consciously through the seasons. But, he argued this is not the case; that it's urban living which slows down time and rural living which makes it move faster. After all, what changes in a city? Maybe a building gets torn down, a new business starts up next door or the weather changes vaguely. And what cycles are there in a city besides the trash pickup, the mailman and the regular tv programming? Now go to the country where the changes and cycles are apparent in everything: the trees drop their leaves and blossom again, the animals hibernate and rear their young, the farm fields bear fruit and lay bare again, and so on. The passage of time is made absolutely apparent right in front of you, every little thing changes or moves in cycles, and you have no choice but to notice and partake in it. This is why time goes faster; one day the apples hang ripe on the branch and the next day they lay rotten on the ground. If you blink, you miss it. And this leads to think: Is time just passing you by? Are you a piece of wood helplessly adrift in the great streams of time, or is that piece of wood a boat with which you navigate the fast flowing waters? Death comes for us all in the end, so it's best to live to the fullest: Hávamál teaches this. Time spares no one, and if you sit still, moments you will never get back will pass you by.

I'm back after a long hiatus. Thanks to everyone who stuck around! I've been camping up Dartmoor for the last 3 days. On my journeys I came across this beautifully preserved bronze age cist, which was located within a small stone circle with a short stone row trailing off to the east. Very liminal. Cist is the Old English etymological ancestor of "chest". In OE it would have been pronounced 'chist' but today we say 'kist'. They were small burial chambers used to inter one person and would have been covered in a mound to create a barrow. Most have been stripped away over the last 4000 years to reveal the stone coffins we see today. They're very common on Dartmoor, often found alongside stone cairns and settlements.

Where my blood boils in exhilaration and my senses are heightened, I call home. Whether it be the dry terrain of the peloponnesian mountains, a dense central-European forest or the frozen Scandinavian mountain-peak calling, I call it home. Where my soul rejoices and my being draws great strength, I know the Gods are near. Thus, I know I'm on sacred ground. Sons and daughters of Europe, do not forget that into the wilderness is to be found the wisdom that will save you and your folk. Even though that wisdom is already within you, you cannot access it if you do not clear your mind, drink the air, connect with Mother Earth by cleansing your aura with the rejuvenating life-affirming energies of nature. You are spiritually connected to the wilderness. That is why nature neutralizes anxiety and brings bliss. Because it is Home.

NEW FILM: An epic journey to discover the origins of the megalithic culture and the oldest tombs in the world. This feature length documentary shows how the famous megalithic monuments of Britain and Ireland, such as Stonehenge, derive from much earlier ones in Brittany. Who were the first farmers in France? Why did they start building the impressive megalithic chambered tombs or the enormous standing stones known as menhirs? This documentary looks at the world’s first tombs, some close to 7000 years old, and traces the development of the dolmens and other tombs from 5000 BC to 2700 BC. We also learn how the first farmers interacted with the Mesolithic Western Hunter Gatherers who were already there, and how they may have influenced this megalithic monument tradition. Learn how the exquisite jadeite axe heads of the Neolithic were symbols of power imported from the far away Alps. WATCH NOW

Some recent cool mushroom finds. 3, 4, 6, 8 were found in Denmark.

Visited Lindholm Høje near Aalborg, Denmark. Didn't get to spend much time there unfortunately but still very impressive. People were buried here for more than five centuries, I believe from ~400 onwards. When christianity came people still lived there but it was quickly abandoned because of sand drifts. The sand helped preserve these graves and the remains of the houses. Definitely worth a visit if you're in Denmark.

A 16th Century embroidery depicting the legend in which Redbad was about to be baptized by St. Wulfram of Sens, but refused when he told him that his ancestors were in Hell. Artist unknown, currently housed in the Museum Catharijneconvent, Utrecht.

On Establishing the Fraternity Creating a Religious Order to Advance Heathenry "As we enter a period of rapid growth in the world of Heathenry ... the need for organizations to advance and develop the faith becomes paramount. We seek to align practicing Asatruans, Odinists, and others around the pillars of Faith, Folk, Family - putting aside our differences for the sake of Heathenry as a whole." Click here to read the full article. You can support us by sharing our posts, volunteering, or applying for membership. We do not accept donations at this time. HAMARR.ORG

Germanic man building a new ritual site

The Cackling Gnome There once was a man who was hungry all day. One morning him and his wife were eating stale bread. Their faces were long and droopy, since the bread was as hard as wood. "I wish we would have something else to eat", said the man. He barely had spoken the words, or a gnome came out of the chimney, and said they could have three wishes. Everything they would wish for, they would receive. The gnome left, cackling with laughter. The man said: "Woman, what shall we wish for?" "Well, I'd really love to have a nice bratwurst." And the bratwurst was there, steaming hot on her plate. But the man got angry: "A bratwurst, a bratwurst, who on earth wishes for a bratwurst?! I wish the damn thing would stick to your nose!" The second wish was fulfilled also. The bratwurst hung from the woman's nose, who started to panic. The man couldn't think of anything else besides wishing the bratwurst would fall off her nose again, to rid her of the inconvience. And so the man and woman had gotten nothing more than a bratwurst with their three wishes. They looked at it, but neither of them had the courage to eat it, no matter how starved they were. From the chimney sounded the gnome's cackling laughter. Gnome fairytale from the book Sprookjes van de Lage Landen by Eelke de Jong and Hans Sleutelaar, 1972. The fairytale was recorded in 1889.

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There is a sensation you get when you are in the thralls of passion. To be drunk with creation or inspiration. Something takes over your body and sends your mind into another dimension. It's beyond a basic bodily pleasure. In fact, basic bodily pleasures are merely a surrogate, a simulation to sate the desire for the higher order ecstasy you get from true "enjoyment". Sometimes it comes when you get lost in your favorite song, read a bit of literature that tingles your imagination or when you're in your workshop building something that's finally taking shape. I've been searching for years for a way to articulate this and don't think I can. But it's the exact same feeling I get when I'm performing or participating in a proper ritual where everything clicks. That frenzy, that ecstacy, I believe, is when we become closer to the divine. The Odinic frenzy. The mead of inspiration. It is what actually makes us human and separates us from animals. To surrender yourself to the enjoyment or creation of beauty and weirdness and feel true love for it is, in my experience, a way for us to be actually human. To have never experienced this, to have nothing that drives love and passion in this way, is to be devoid of one of the most beautiful parts of being.